


Chrysanthemums

by Rubadubababyoil



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Brian is pure of heart and dumb of ass here, Early Queen (Band), First Kiss, Flowers, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Roger is so done, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29570589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubadubababyoil/pseuds/Rubadubababyoil
Summary: When Freddie's boyfriend gets him nothing for Valentine's Day, Brian buys him flowers to cheer him up. He just wants to be a good friend, and there's no way he could actually have feelings for Freddie...right?
Relationships: Brian May/Freddie Mercury
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	Chrysanthemums

**Author's Note:**

> Is this the most oblivious I've written Brian? Perhaps! Perhaps.

Brian did it impulsively.

He was walking home from the bus stop when bright yellow caught his eye and made him stop on the pavement. He stared at them, vibrant and healthy, and immediately knew Freddie would like them and that he should have them. He hardly even thought about it, which was unlike him. He only had to imagine the happiness Freddie would feel for a moment before he was walking in the shop and then leaving with a big, beautiful bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums. It was when Brian was actually walking down the street with the bouquet when he realized he’d just used some of his extremely limited spending money to purchase flowers for his male friend, who had a boyfriend.

That was part of what inspired him to do this, though. Freddie’s boyfriend, Tony, was a bloody  _ prick. _ Brian had no idea what Freddie saw in him, or most of the men he dated, for that matter. Every man Freddie brought home was terrible for him and Tony was no exception. He was stupid and loud and seemed to care more about partying with Freddie than actually spending time with him, when they were both sober. If he only liked Freddie when he was drunk, then shouldn’t that be a red flag? That was what Brian tried to tell him before, but Freddie only brushed him off and said everything was fine and  _ stop worrying that curly head of yours, Maggie. _ Brian knew the others disliked Tony, too, especially Roger, so he didn’t think his ill feelings were unfounded. Freddie acted like he only wanted a good time, but Brian saw the bits of lyrics on paper lying around his room filled with words of love and yearning. Freddie loved  _ love, _ and he wasn’t fooling anyone.

That was what made this past weekend even worse. It was Valentine’s Day on Saturday and Tony got Freddie  _ nothing.  _ No flowers, no card, no sweets, nothing. He just wanted to go out with Freddie again, but at their usual club, not even at a nice restaurant.

Brian learned all this from Roger.

_ “You know Fred,” _ he said, keeping his voice low in their shared flat.  _ “He acted like he was annoyed more than anything else, but I could tell he was actually upset.” _

Brian had felt his blood boil in his veins and his teeth ground together. He knew Freddie loved presents and how hurt he must have been to get nothing. That would upset almost anyone, but especially someone as sensitive as he was. He liked to act flippant and nonchalant, but Brian knew there was a gentle, caring person under all that. How could someone take Freddie so for granted?  _ “He should break up with him,” _ Brian had said.

_ “I already had that conversation with him,” _ Roger told him tiredly. _ “But he didn’t want to talk about it. Don’t rub salt in the wound.” _

When Freddie emerged from his room later with a downcast gaze and none of the usual sparkle in his eye, Brian wanted to call up that arsehole boyfriend of his and tell him off. He barely restrained himself.

Now Brian was here, flowers in hand, because Freddie deserved a nice little surprise for Valentine’s Day, even if it was a couple days after the holiday. He should have nice things to make him smile, not some loser who was using him for sex and a good time. Why couldn’t Freddie see that? Brian felt like he could go mad sometimes, thinking about how amazing Freddie really was and how little he thought of himself. He wished he could make Freddie understand how wonderful he was. For someone with such a stage presence, he had so many insecurities. So did Brian, he supposed. The band was only in its second year, but Brian knew Freddie enough to see there was a shy young man past the glitz and eyeliner, especially since they lived together and he got to see Freddie’s quieter side during the day. Sometimes he wondered if Freddie put on a bit of a show around those he didn’t know well because he was afraid people wouldn’t like the real him, but Brian did.

As he got closer to their flat, he felt more confident in his purchase. It wasn’t weird that he did this, why would it be? He was being a good friend, not flirting. He wanted Freddie to leave Tony, but for his own sake, not because Brian was ready to sweep him off his feet. It wasn’t like he was trying to cause trouble. It wasn’t a big deal. Freddie gave people little gifts all the time and it was fine.

As sure as he was that Freddie would like the flowers, Brian got a little bundle of nerves in his stomach when he was actually walking up the stairs of the building to their flat. He wasn’t usually a big gift giver, and even though he wasn’t trying anything inappropriate, it was unusual for male friends to give each other flowers. He wasn’t really invested in all that bollocks about how “real” men should act, though. Still, he hoped Roger wasn’t home and Deacy wasn’t over. He didn’t want them making any snide remarks. They usually weren’t this time of day as soon as he got back from school and to his relief, Freddie was alone in the sitting room and Roger’s bedroom door was open, indicating he wasn’t here.

In the small sitting room, Freddie was curled up on the sofa, knees drawn up and sketchbook resting against his thighs. The tip of his tongue was peaking out as he squinted in concentration, his pencil moving vigorously.

Brian quietly shut the front door behind him and slipped out of his clogs, suddenly feeling a little hesitant. He didn’t want to interrupt his work.

But Freddie said, “Hi, Brian,” as he continued sketching.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“You’re always home first,” he said, still looking at the page.

“Right.” Stupid question. He looked down at the flowers and words refused to form on his lips, his confidence fading fast.  _ Come on, it’s just a gift. Give it to him. It’ll be weird if you just stand here with flowers.  _ “I um, know you’re busy, but—”

“No, I’m only doodling,” Freddie cut him off and sat up. He put his sketchbook and pencil down on the sofa and looked over at him. His grin faltered and his eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. “Flowers? Who are those for?”

When he was in the shop and walking along, Brian had forgotten how intense Freddie’s direct gaze could be, and the bundle of nerves jittered around his stomach. Doubt descended upon him and it was far too late to do anything about it now, although he subconsciously slouched, trying to make himself look smaller. “Well, they’re for you.”

Freddie’s lips parted with a small intake of breath and his eyes went round with bewilderment.  _ “Me?” _

At least he was genuinely surprised. That was good...maybe. Brian swallowed, regretting his earlier impulsiveness, and his worried nature hit him like a freight train. He looked down at his feet. “Yeah. I was, I was walking home and I saw them, and I know yellow’s your favorite color and you love chrysanthemums, so. I know it’s belated, but you should get something for Valentine’s Day. I just wanted to, you know.” He risked looking up.

Freddie’s eyes weren’t any less large, but had gone soft around the edges and shined in the low light of the setting sun coming through the window of the flat. His expression was as bright and intense as the chrysanthemums. 

Heat bloomed on Brian’s face. He’d flushed a little in embarrassment before when Freddie called him his Jimi Hendrix, but never from Freddie simply looking at him. Then again, did he ever look at him quite like this before?

Freddie got up and approached him, eyes locked onto the flowers. “Oh,  _ Brian,” _ he said breathlessly. 

To his confusion, his flush grew hotter at Freddie’s tone.

“They’re gorgeous,” he said earnestly, running a fingertip delicately over a petal. 

“Yeah?” Brian asked, and cleared this throat after he noticed how husky his voice was.

“Yeah.” Freddie took the bouquet, his hand briefly brushing Brian’s in the process. He looked up with the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks and a warm smile. He tried to conceal his teeth with his top lip for a second, but he was smiling too widely for it to work.

There was a hard thump in Brian’s chest. 

“Thank you, my darling.” Freddie used his free hand to grasp Brian’s forearm lightly. He stood on his toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Oh!” he exclaimed and pressed his knuckles against Brian’s cheek. “You’re even warmer than you look! Never gave flowers to a man before, hm?” he teased with mischief curling at his lips.

Brian was thinking of how surprisingly soft Freddie’s lips were. “What? No, I—I guess not.”

Freddie giggled. “Calm down, Bri,” he gave his cheek a gentle pat. “This was very sweet of you,” he said and gave the flowers a sniff.

“I’m glad you like them,” he said faintly. He had the odd feeling of thinking too much and like his head was empty at the same time.

“I love them,” he declared and spun around to set the flowers right on the cheap, crappy coffee table. “What a lovely centerpiece,” he cooed.

Freddie’s joy brought a smile to Brian’s face. As off-kilter as he felt, he was glad the gift had the desired effect. “It’s certainly the nicest-looking thing in this moldy room right now, I’ll give you that.”

“If only they could last,” he sighed. “I know,” he pointed a finger in the air. “I’ll paint them!” he decided and hurried over to his art supplies. “That’ll capture them permanently.”

Brian laughed. “I could just get my camera and it’d be a lot easier, you know.”

“But that’s not  _ special,”  _ Freddie protested.

“All right,” Brian put up his hands. “They’re yours so you can do what you want with them.”

Freddie was enthusiastically pulling out a set of paints.

Brian didn’t have the heart to tell him to make sure he didn’t get any paint on the sofa or else their landlord would have a fit. Freddie looked like himself again for the first time since his disappointing holiday. Brian watched Freddie until he realized what he was doing and decided to go to his room. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Thanks again, dear!” Freddie called over his shoulder.

Once alone in his bedroom, Brian touched the spot on his cheek where Freddie’s lips had been. Freddie gave him friendly hugs sometimes, but he couldn’t recall being kissed before. It must have been because Freddie was so pleased. It was worth the momentary embarrassment to see joy light up his face like that. When someone showed Freddie kindness, he would turn child-like in his glee and gratefulness. Brian thought of the utter disbelief on his face when he found out the flowers were for him and how endearing his wide-eyed expression was. How could men like Tony date Freddie and not want to get that reaction from him all the time? Brian didn’t understand. He sighed, coming back to reality. He put his arm down, although his cheek remained warm and his chest felt heavier than usual. He should brush it off and get some reading done.

* * *

Brian got lost in his homework for who-knows how long until Roger knocked once and didn’t even wait for permission to slide into his room.

“Hey,” he smiled.

Brian would’ve been annoyed, but he needed a break. “Hey, make lots of money at the stall?”

“Oh yeah,” he rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him. “We’re really swimming in riches now. That’s why I nearly sold Fred’s jacket today. Again.”

“He would have killed you.”

“I know, I stopped myself at the last second,” he said, taking another step further into the small room. “But anyway, congrats,” he gave a nod with a grin.

Brian frowned. “For what?”

“On finally working up the nerve to make a move,” Roger clapped him on the shoulder. “I saw the flowers.”

“Make a  _ move?”  _ Brian choked, and if he’d been blushing with Freddie, his face lit on fire now.

Roger’s smile dropped and he let go of him. “Wait, you  _ weren’t  _ asking Freddie out with those?”

“No!” Brian said hotly, but kept his voice down because he didn’t know where Freddie was in the flat right now. 

“Why the hell did you get him a bouquet for Valentine’s Day, then?” he asked, squinting in confusion.

“Because—wait, how’d you know it was for Valentine’s Day?”

“Freddie told me when I came in,” he said. “He was painting away and said, ‘Look at the  _ beautiful  _ flowers Brian got me for Valentine’s Day,” Roger said in a perfect imitation of Freddie. “His words exactly.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“So why’d you get someone other than your mum flowers for Valentine’s Day if you weren’t trying to ask them out?”

“Because Tony’s an arsehole and Freddie was upset,” he explained defensively. “It’s not fair he didn’t get any sort of gift. I was walking home and saw the flowers in a window and knew Freddie would be over the moon, so I got them.” He was really glad he was alone with Freddie when he gave him the flowers; he knew Roger would have caused some sort of scene.

Roger stared at him blankly. “So. You got your mate flowers ‘cause you knew they’re his favorite and you think he deserves a better boyfriend?”

“Exactly,” Brian said, thinking it was perfectly logical.

Roger squinted at him even harder. “And...you really don’t think there’s anything romantic about that?”

“No,” he glared at him.

Roger took a deep breath and sighed slowly in disappointment. “And here I thought you finally realized you fancy Freddie.”

His heart leapt into his throat. “I do  _ not,”  _ he hissed in a whisper. Fancy  _ Freddie?  _ No, these feelings were normal. “You hate Tony and think Fred should dump him, too!”

“Of course I do,” he agreed easily, “but I wouldn’t buy him flowers for an explicitly romantic holiday, mate.”

When put so bluntly, the situation gave Brian pause.

“I just wouldn’t think of it,” Roger continued, having the courtesy to keep his voice down by now. “Maybe I’d sit and have a beer with him, but flowers wouldn’t cross my mind. Y’know, because I don’t fancy him.”

Stubborn anger sparked in him. “Stop it. I just wanted to cheer him up. He was down all weekend.”

Roger grasped a bedpost and leaned his weight on it with a small sigh, like he was getting ready to explain something to a kid. “Brian, if it was just this one thing, maybe I’d believe you, but I’ve been living with you and watching you look at him like you’re ready to turn to a puddle every time he smiles at you for quite some time now.”

“I don’t,” he started reflexively, but his scratchy voice died in his throat. Did he...did he really do that? He did feel really warm when Freddie smiled at him today. He liked his smile in general and wished he didn’t hide it outside of the flat. Brian was fond of all his friends, but Freddie was different. He assumed it was because Freddie was unique in every respect, but he was downright captivating even off stage. Did Roger feel the same way about Freddie? He should keep that thought to himself. Roger may have loved Freddie, but he’d probably start cackling at Brian if asked if he found him  _ captivating. _

“He kissed my cheek,” Brian said quietly, the words slipping past his lips before his mind could catch up. 

Roger raised an eyebrow. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation, but did you like it?”

The little kiss was warm and Freddie’s lips were soft, and it made Brian feel appreciated. “Why would I dislike it?” he asked genuinely. “It’s Freddie.”

Roger shook his head. “You poor, hopeless sod.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” he snapped. He was perhaps having a little bit of a crisis. “It could—I could’ve just liked it because we’re friends.”

“Why don’t you go out there and snog him and see how you like that?” he asked dryly, pointing his thumb at the door.

“Not funny!” he raised his voice. He waited a second, and when he heard nothing from the sitting room, he continued in a whisper. “Just get out before he hears you.”

Roger shrugged, but looked more annoyed than casual. “Okay,” he said quietly, “keep buying Freddie all the flowers he wants, at least ‘till his boyfriend finds out.”

That stung. A few minutes ago, Brian would say he didn’t know why it hurt, but now… “Get out of my room,” he grumbled.

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Roger said under his breath and left.

Brian laid down on his bed, his studies forgotten. Roger could be unbearable sometimes. Why’d he have to make a big deal out of this? Brian only wanted to make Freddie smile. Friends wanted to do nice things for each other all the time.

But Roger said it wasn’t just the flowers. It was true that Brian loved making Freddie smile and laugh, but he never thought much of it. He never questioned his fondness of Freddie, it was just there. He was a little puzzled by him when they first met, but Freddie was instantly likable. Brian didn’t always completely understand him, but he tried. He felt like they were two sides of the same coin in a lot of ways. They fought over music, but they brought the best out of each other’s creative abilities, too. It worked—they worked. When they got on the same wavelength, they created wonderful music together. Even aside from music, Freddie was so easy to get along with. Brian would never deny how much he cared about him, but was it really romance? He never even kissed a man before. If Brian were honest with himself, he’d admit he never really let himself look in that direction, but if he did...

Brian’s mind drifted to earlier with Freddie standing there, his expression soft and brimming with joy. He’d kissed his cheek, but what if he leaned up and kissed him on the lips instead? Brian would probably be able to smell his cologne from that close, maybe taste the Earl Grey he drank during the day. His lips felt soft for that short moment, so they might feel even softer if Freddie kissed him slowly. How was Freddie as a kisser, anyway? Brian always thought he’d like things hard and fast, but he could be wrong.

He’d been idly tracing his bottom lip with his finger, but stopped.  _ I’ve imagined how Freddie likes kissing and sex. _

Oh. Okay. Maybe Roger was onto something.

Brian put his hands over his eyes and groaned. He was confused. He was  _ fucked.  _ Well, not necessarily. He might not even like kissing Freddie in reality, outside his imagination. God, what was he saying? He couldn’t kiss Freddie when he had a boyfriend, even if the guy was a total dick. His heart was beating fast now and his palms were sweaty, because it was slowly but surely sinking in that he sort of did fancy Freddie and Roger was an absolute prat for telling him about it. He could’ve kept going about his life normally; ignorance is bliss, right? But now he was thinking of what it would be like to be the one who got to take Freddie out on dates, and to be on the receiving end of Freddie’s affection.

_ “I don’t know why you bother straightening your hair,”  _ he’d said years ago.  _ “Your curls are gorgeous, darling.” _

_ “No,”  _ Brian had said with a little self-conscious laugh.  _ “You’re just flattering me.” _

_ “I do love flattering, you’ve got me there!”  _ he smirked.  _ “But I’m no liar, Bri.” _

Brian didn’t straighten his hair again.

He rubbed his eyes. His heart was beating hard from that memory. He needed to calm down and stop being stupid. Freddie was in a relationship and probably didn’t even feel that way about him. Brian would need to find out how to go back to ignoring his apparent crush. He could try to get over it by writing a sad song here or there, like he did with “White Queen.” He was (sadly) pretty used to his feelings not being returned, anyway. It wasn’t any different because he was in a band with Freddie, he told himself. He sat up, ignoring the twinge in his chest. He was getting a headache from all the thoughts swirling around his head. He didn’t think his stop in the flower shop would leave him reeling today, but here he was. Tea. He needed tea.

Brian shuffled out of his room, feeling tired and confused. It was getting late. He must have been lost in his head way longer than he thought because the flat was quiet and dark, save for the light coming from the sitting room. He went to go to the kitchen, but he saw Freddie was still painting on the sofa, a small canvas held tightly in one hand. The tip of his tongue was peeking out of the side of his mouth in concentration, his eyes focused, a smudge of yellow paint on his cheek. He was cute.

Brian pressed his lips together. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk to Freddie right now. He felt frazzled.

“If you’re making tea, get me a cuppa, would you?” Freddie asked without looking up.

Damn. “Sure,” he said, and privately reflected on his reluctance to ever deny Freddie a request as their tea brewed. He wasn’t in a good mood and supposed it was partly because he was upset with himself. He was always so hopeless when it came to anything related to relationships. Look at him now: he was oblivious to his own budding feelings, which were apparently glaringly obvious to Roger. Did John know, too? Damn it, he probably did and would laugh when he found out about the flowers.

Brian held two hot cups in his hands and placed Freddie’s Earl Gary down on the table, next to the bouquet. As he was leaning over, he got a glimpse of the unfinished painting. “That’s great, Freddie,” he said, and it was. Even though the picture was incomplete, Freddie captured the vibrancy of the chrysanthemums well.

“Thanks,” he looked up at him with a grin. “It’s not finished, but I need a break,” he said and placed the canvas on the coffee table, putting his paints and brushes down on the floor next to the side of the sofa.

“Just make sure you don’t step in the paint.”

Freddie snorted. “I won’t.” He picked up his cup and took a sip. “Take a break and sit with me, Brian. You look like you’ve had your nose in a book for hours.”

“You’re not wrong,” Brian said, although it wasn’t why he must have looked like shit. He wanted to retreat to his room and drink his tea alone while he sulked.

Freddie patted the cushion next to him. “Come on.”

Brian didn’t want to be rude when Freddie didn’t do anything wrong, though. “For a few minutes,” he said and sat down. Their thighs were touching on the small sofa. Great. Brian looked down at his tea.

“Once the flowers die, I’ll frame the painting in my room,” Freddie said.

“You know we can’t hang pictures of the walls,” Brian reminded him of their landlord’s rule.

“It’s not like he’ll come into my room anytime soon. He probably won’t notice until after we’ve finally moved out of this dump.”

Brian hummed absentmindedly and sipped his tea, eyes landing on the smudge of paint on Freddie’s cheek.

“When we finish this album, we’ll have to make more money,” he went on. “We’re getting better and better. It isn’t finished, but I think ‘Killer Queen’ has potential. We have to see where one of your solos can fit in. I think....” 

Brian watched him talk, the way his hand fluttered about enthusiastically and his eyes lit up when talking about their music. The weight in Brian’s chest loosened, as it usually did when he talked with Freddie. He sat and enjoyed his presence, taking in his slightly disheveled appearance from painting for hours. Freddie was usually incredibly neat and fastidious about his appearance, but in addition to the paint on his face, his hair was going back to its natural, wavy self, and it was ruffled from, most likely, Freddie running his hand through it as he worked. Brian always thought Freddie looked good, even better when in his element and at ease like this, and he was beginning to admit that he might have been ignoring what this meant deliberately.

Freddie blinked. “Are you listening?”

Brian nodded. “Yeah, sorry, it’s just,” he smiled a little. “You’ve got paint on your face.”

“Oh, bugger,” Freddie pouted and put his tea down to rummage in his art bag. Why he carried a small mirror with him wherever he went was a question for another day, but now he was rubbing fruitlessly at the dried paint.

“You won’t get it off like that,” Brian chuckled.

“Ugh, how stupid of me,” he whined.

“Relax, you look fine.”

“Yes, looking a mess suits me,” he said sarcastically.

“You don’t look a mess. I’ve never seen you look bad.”

Freddie stopped rubbing his skin and looked at him inquisitively. “Really?” he asked playfully.

Crap, that sounded like flirting, didn’t it? Brian made a vague noise in his throat and almost burned his mouth with how quickly he took a gulp of tea.

Freddie put the mirror down, watching him. His expression had gone inscrutable.

As comforting as his presence was most of the time, Freddie had the ability to quickly make Brian tongue-tied and self-conscious, too.

“I must say,” Freddie crossed one knee over the other, “you sure have been kind to me today. What have I done to deserve that?”

“Nothing in particular,” Brian mumbled, carefully setting the tea on the coffee table and making sure he seemed calm. He didn’t think it worked, though. “Just you being you.”

“How touching,” he said, bemused. “How did I get so lucky to have such a caring guitarist?”

Brian couldn’t read his mood at all and didn’t know where this was going, so he turned his head and looked at him with uncertainty.

Freddie had a small smile on his face which didn’t meet his eyes, his hands folded atop his knee. “Don’t have a fit, I’m only teasing you. I heard Roger giving you a hard time earlier but know he’s just being thick.”

It was a very good thing that Brian had put the tea on the table or else there was a not-insignificant chance he would’ve found a way to burn himself then. He  _ knew _ Roger was talking too loud! Brian swallowed. “You heard us?”

“Bits and pieces,” he shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t worry, I know you were just being nice,” he said, his smile dropping by a fraction. “You don’t have to worry about me coming on to you.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” Brian said at once with a worried frown. He studied the quick tapping of Freddie’s fingers on his knee. His eyes were cautious in a way they usually weren’t here at home.  _ Oh, he’s nervous.  _ Nervous because he thought Brian assumed he would read into the flowers and start flirting with him? 

“Were you worried?” he asked carefully. “That I’d think that and be an arse, or something?”

Freddie laughed hollowly. “No, no, that’s unlike you.”

Brian was only more convinced that was it. “It is unlike me,” he affirmed. “I wouldn’t be upset with you if you. Uh.” His speech came to a halt. Why was it so hot in here?

“I know,” he said, a touch of sadness cutting through his smile. “I always thought you’d be nice about it.”

“‘Always’?” Brian echoed. “Wait,” his heart kicked into high gear. “You thought about this before?”

Realizing his mistake, Freddie’s eyes widened for a second before he tried snorting with laughter, but it sounded strangled. “No, don’t be silly!” He waved his hand. A light blush was spreading across his face. “I’m only  _ saying,  _ I know I’m far from your type, to say the least, but I knew you’d let a man down gently. That’s the sort of person you are. In a hypothetical scenario, of course.” 

That confirmed it for Brian: Freddie definitely thought about this before. In addition, he looked glum while he was saying this. That would only make sense if he wouldn’t want Brian to turn him down, in a hypothetical situation. He overheard Brian and Roger talking, thought Brian didn’t actually want him, and had to force a smile to his face. That had to be it. Freddie didn’t act this way when he was just joking around.

If the thought of having feelings for Freddie was shocking to Brian, the possibility that they were returned was so incomprehensible that it never occurred to him before.

After a moment of silence went on a little too long, Freddie bit his lip and looked down. “Right,” he said, tone light but strained. “Now that that’s settled, I think I should put all this paint away for the night.”

Brian’s chest clenched. He could be dense when it came to feelings, he knew that by now, but he also knew when Freddie was upset and trying to mask it. He knew this was because of  _ him,  _ too, and even though he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted, he needed to fix this. 

“Hold on,” he grasped Freddie’s wrist. His thoughts were racing and buzzing like white noise in his skull. There was one thing he could do to get a definitive answer on both of their feelings. “Let me...Can I try something?” he asked in a hush.

Freddie was taken aback, his lips parted, but he nodded. “You’re surprising me a lot today, but all right.”

_ I think I’m about to surprise you even more.  _ Brian told himself to stop thinking so hard and moved his hand from Freddie’s wrist to cup his cheek, thumb over the paint. He heard a small gasp from Freddie before he kissed him.

His prediction from earlier was right. Freddie’s lips were ridiculously soft and plush enough that Brian couldn’t help but press in closer. He could feel the flush on Freddie’s face in his palm and got the faintest scent of the aftershave he used this morning. Everything was warm and close and Brian wanted more. All of his doubts melted away. The buzzing in his head ceased. Freddie’s warm breath fanned over his cheek and  _ god,  _ he was kissing back now. Brian shivered when he felt hands slide into his hair. His toes curled in his socks when Freddie tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss. They got accustomed to the feeling of each other’s mouths, and it was almost strange to think that Brian knew Freddie so well, but there was the whole new side to discover. Strange, but exhilarating.

Brian parted his lips and stroked his thumb over Freddie’s cheek. Getting to be so close and touch him like this made warmth roll around in Brian’s chest pleasantly. He caressed Freddie’s skin more, gently, kissing him slowly. He closed his lips over Freddie’s plump bottom lip lightly, then sucked when he heard the slightest groan. He tested out tracing his lip with the tip of his tongue, then over the seam of his mouth. He stifled a grunt when Freddie’s fingers tightened in his hair and he opened his mouth, letting Brian in. Their tongues met and Brian could taste his tea, but it didn’t last long, both of them experienced enough to know that things could get uncomfortable and full of saliva quickly if they spent too much time licking into each other’s mouth. Brian still wanted to taste him, though, and kept their kissing open-mouthed.

Freddie didn’t seem to mind at all, carding a hand through his curls. Brian forgot how good that felt and couldn’t hold back a quiet groan, kissing him harder when Freddie did it again. He instinctively wanted him closer and wrapped his arm around his small waist. He noticed how nicely Freddie fit in his embrace. Any reservations he had were gone. He loved this. He didn’t want to stop. 

Neither did Freddie. He wrapped his arms around Brian’s neck. He only broke the kiss for a quick intake of breath before kissing Brian again, kissing the corner of his mouth and then squarely on the lips. Freddie kissed with a purpose, but it wasn’t the blinding whirlwind Brian imagined. Freddie was an affectionate kisser, holding onto him and trying to make it deep and intense, but he wasn’t overtly trying to make it sexual, either, which surprised Brian. Then again, maybe Freddie didn’t get to just  _ kiss _ often with Tony.

…

_ Fuck! _

“Wait!” Brian broke the kiss, pushing him back with his hands on his chest. “Tony!” he reminded him in a panic.

Freddie didn’t have a trace of worry on his face. In fact, he looked somewhat dazed. His plush lips were slightly red and wet and his eyes were dark and half-lidded.

Christ, that was hot.

He blinked languidly. “Tony who?”

“I’m serious, Fred,” Brian said sternly. He didn’t mean to cause trouble. How could he let his instincts take over like that?

“Oh, him?” Freddie asked, voice smooth as silk. “Don’t fret,” he murmured, shuffling closer and placing his hand on Brian’s chest. He leaned in and placed kisses from the side of his neck up to his ear. “I’m finished with him.” Freddie ran his hand over his chest and nibbled his ear.

Brian’s eyes rolled back into his head until the words sunk in. “You’re finally breaking up with him?” he asked in relief.

Freddie pulled back and looked up at him from under his dark lashes. There was a hint of shyness in his gaze. “Why would I stay with him? My new boyfriend brings me flowers.”

Brian’s expression went tender and a wave of strong emotion washed over him, causing to cup the back of Freddie’s head and bring him into a searing kiss. _Boyfriend!_ He may not have known this was what he wanted when he got up today, but he was certain he wanted to keep making Freddie look at him like that, and to keep him safe from horrible men. Freddie wanted him to be the one to date him and hold him, and how was he going to decline? Why would he, anyway, when he adored him since the start? The kissing they were doing now only meant he got to express that in a new way.

Brian laid back on the sofa, bringing Freddie with him as their legs tangled together with increasingly hot, wet kisses.

-

Roger, a short time later, cursed the small size of their flat and that he said anything to Brian at all today, because if he’d known he’d hear his friends moaning during the night, he would have at least crashed at Deacy’s place.

“Why did I have to be right?” he whispered to himself and angrily buried his head under his pillow to block out the noise. All over a bloody bouquet. Christ, they were ridiculous.  _ I’m going to have to find a new flat, aren’t I?  _ Roger thought miserably as he grimaced when he heard a sound he never wanted to hear from Brian’s mouth, thank you very bloody much.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it's both a little rushed and too long at the same time lol, this came from someone on tumblr making me think of Brian giving Freddie flowers and I wrote this in a few days in between homework assignments. 
> 
> I'm on tumblr under the same name <3


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